Wrong Side of the Bed - Ch. 15

This is a work of FICTION, made by and for adults. The following chapter includes mentions of abuse (physical, emotional), sex-negativity, sexual assault and battery, depictions of severe trauma, teasing, alcohol use, humiliation, crude language (fuck), and genital mentions (breasts). Reader discretion is highly advised.

Mistress murmured gently in her restless slumber as she tightly held her tail. The sunlight left the bed before Mistress tearfully fell asleep and slumped to her side. Elva cleaned the tears away and carefully watched Mistress' delicate face as her tight embrace comforted her. 'It's so warm,' Elva reflected as the raven leather of her wings encased the pair in a thick blanket.

While Elva became lost in Mistress' soft features for the first time, she realized, 'Huh, Mistress only has one spot on her face, just under her left eye.' Elva glanced at the back of her hand as she reflected, 'I'm smothered in them.' Quickly returning to Mistress' visage, she observed, 'It's so close to the scar, too. I'm—glad it missed.'

The sunlight gradually became milder while Elva patiently waited for Mistress to wake up. 'Is this what it was like for her, watching me rest?' Elva wondered as Mistress continued to grumble and shift.

Finally, when the sun no longer shone brightly through the portal, Mistress inhaled sharply and grimaced before her eyes gently creaked open. Still clasping her tail, Mistress rubbed her lids before shyly looking at Elva. "Hey," she meekly greeted Elva while struggling to maintain her gaze.

Somewhat startled by how timid she seemed, Elva replied, "Um, h-hello, Mistress."

Looking away in embarrassment, Mistress softly apologized, "I, um... I'm sorry for making you wait—and for what happened earlier."

Elva shook her head before replying, "It's okay." Unsure of what to say, Elva cautiously asked, "Are—you okay?"

Mistress looked down for a moment longer before slowly answering, "No. I feel a little better, but—" After closing her eyes and sighing, Mistress continued, "I suppose I owe you an explanation."

Still watching Mistress' worried face, Elva consoled her, "You don't have to explain if—"

Halting Elva mid-sentence, Mistress huffed as she opened her eyes and insisted, "No, you deserve to know. Especially after all that I've asked of you." She waited before continuing, "I need to ask you for one more thing, though." Turning her head further away before glancing towards Elva, Mistress shyly asked, "Can—you call me by my name?"

Blinking as her Mistress nervously shifted her wings and fiddled with her tail, Elva eventually clarified, "Call you—Saoirse?"

Nodding and anxiously facing Elva, Mistress explained, "I—I don't think I can tell you what I need to as your Mistress. So, I want you to view me as...a friend?" Mistress shook her head and looked away as she corrected, "Not a—a friend, I just...I-I need to hear my name, so—please call me Saoirse, Elva."

Elva hesitated as she watched Mistress before she eventually answered, "O-okay, Mis—" Elva halted and began fidgeting as she realized her mistake. "I-I'm sorry, Mistr—," Elva's squirming worsened when she messed up again trying to apologize. After mumbling for a moment, Elva timidly inquired, "Ca-can I call you—Mistress Saoirse?" When met with a curious glance, Elva shyly explained, "I—i-it's difficult, after all you've done for me, to—speak of you so...uhm...ungraciously?"

Huffing as she closed her eyes and shook her head, Saoirse answered with a weary smirk, "That's fine." Her smile quickly vanished before she nervously began, "I, um...I wasn't—born this way. As a woman, a succubus. I..." Saoirse could hardly meet Elva's glance as she stated, "I was born—an incubus...and raised as a man." Elva hardly thought on her admission before she continued, "Meranarax was the name my fa—" Saoirse bit her lip and turned away before coldly stating, "Lynx gave me. My mother said it was to hide my humanity, but, to be honest, I don't think he ever thought about me until I—well, needed more energy than my own.

"I was, um," Saoirse paused, glancing away anxiously before trying again, "he trained me—for twelve centuries. Teaching me to be a slave master, like him, and...punish rapists." Her voice became more unsteady when Saoirse noticed Elva seemed confused. "People who've committed—'sexual sins' and have to earn 'absolution' before they can be pardoned—through pain and torture."

Saoirse started shaking while tears swelled again before she began anew, "The first time I was allowed to torture a 'sinner' when I was—twenty, I thought it felt—good? But, then Lynx—always—pushed me to punish them further... to 'finish their lesson'." Suddenly Saoirse became quiet while her eyes trembled. Elva questioned her Mistress' whisper as she quivered and let go of her tail to cover her ears, "Oh, Brigit, their screams when I..."

As Saoirse's eyes tearfully shut and body clutched, her wings pulled Elva closer while she sobbed, "I didn't know—I had a choice." Elva couldn't find a way to hold her before Saoirse shook and cried, "But it was never enough for—! E—every time! Until I—felt their pain! I—I didn't know I could—feel another's suffering until—!"

Before she could speak further, Saoirse fell into a wail that left Elva questioning as she reached out, 'What should I—'

Taking Elva's hands as her eyes peered open, Saoirse choked while she continued, "When I learned I had a choice—that I didn't have to torture people, I...I tried to leave. I—," Saoirse sniffled, struggling to clean her eyes and hold Elva, "I told him 'I want to be on my own' and I-I thought he'd—!" Falling into a sob before she could continue, Saoirse clenched Elva's fingers as she bawled, "She didn't deserve 'absolution' but he still—all because I 'added to her sins'!"

When Saoirse clutched herself in lament, Elva tried to hold her close while hesitantly stroking her hair. Saoirse's horns nearly rested around her neck as she dropped into Elva's bust, though she hardly noticed as her Mistress' bellows seemed to calm. Slowly Saoirse quieted while she tightly held Elva back, and while her breathing stilled, Elva cautiously asked, "Mistress—Saoirse, who is 'she'?"

Her gaze gradually raised as Saoirse affectionately whispered, "Aileene. My first slave." The light smile that brightened her cheeks faded when she corrected, "My only slave."

With the brief pause, Elva couldn't help but compare again, 'Bright, like—'

"Like your name, Elva," Saoirse plainly finished her thought. "You remind me of her. Quite a lot, actually. How scared you were, your habits—the things you enjoy. Oh, Brigit, you even look—so much like her." Before she could continue, Saoirse pulled herself back into Elva's chest as she began tearing up again. "I never hurt her," her muffled voice quietly sobbed as she held Elva tighter. "Not once. I was so—sick of that taste. But I always felt her fear anyway. And then—," Saoirse's voice shuddered as she began shaking. Suddenly gasping, Saoirse couldn't speak until she took several wheezing breaths. "Then he—he found us—in bed, like this, and he—he tortured her—and made me watch. I—," falling into despair as her wailing began again, Saoirse cried out, "She didn't deserve it! I—I couldn't save her! Wh-when I tried, he—he did this to me and I—I ran away!!" Breaking down in Elva's embrace, Saoirse painfully confessed, "I ran away before that monster killed me and I left her there!"

Slowly understanding her Mistress as she wept into her breasts, Elva quietly held Saoirse while her wails worsened. Elva ignored her own pounding heart and unease as Saoirse wrapped her tattered wings around them in a comforting embrace. Saoirse's voice gradually quieted to a sniffle as the sun rose further and Elva nearly thought she'd fallen asleep again before her head lifted. "I'm sorry," she quietly said before meeting Elva's gaze.

As Saoirse let go to dry her eyes, Elva tried to console her, "You don't have to apologize, Mistress Saoirse."

"I do, though," Saoirse insisted with a huff before closing her eyes. "I've put you in so much danger just by keeping you here and—oh, Brigit, doing everything I've done to you."

Elva asserted, "But, I-I've consented to everything and—enjoyed it. Why would that put me in danger?"

Saoirse sighed before answering, "I really wish I knew. I just know Lynx scorns pleasure and that the entire time I was with him, he never let me...try to be me. Then he rejected me when I actually..." After shaking her head with a huff, Saoirse started again with a light smile, "My mother, on the other hand, they—" After freezing for a few heartbeats, Saoirse's face fell in the sheets, where she promptly groaned in frustration.

"What's wrong, Mistress Saoirse," Elva perked up to ask while anxiously waiting for her grumbling to cease.

Her head came up as she tiredly mumbled, "Why did I have to bring them up?" Begrudgingly unwrapping them and pushing herself upright, Saoirse reluctantly announced, "My mother is here," just before they heard the same metallic chime from earlier.

Blinking in surprise, Elva had to repeat, "Your mother?" as Saoirse reached out for her. Taking her hand and climbing off the bed, Elva asked, "Do—I need to hide?"

Saoirse grumpily answered, "There's no point," as she led Elva to the rightmost exit. "My mother is clairvoyant. I'd be shocked if they didn't already know you were here." As Saoirse opened the door, Elva saw a dim hallway with beautiful dresses lining both walls. Tightly pulling her wings in as she passed through the wide opening, Saoirse let go and stepped in alone while running her fingers along the articles. Halting soon, Saoirse turned to the left and grasped the sleeve of a white and green dress. "I swear to Brigit if..." she mumbled while pulling it from the row and approaching Elva. "Please, try this on," she requested before handing it over.

As Elva took the vested garb, she first marveled at the unbelievable softness before holding it to herself. When she looked back up, the thin room became gently lit with purplish lights before the door swung nearly closed. Returning to the garment, Elva slipped her robe off and dropped it to the ground before pulling the skirt over her head. It snugly slipped down her frame as Elva lifted her arms into the sleeves, settling comfortably on her shoulders when her head emerged.

After buttoning the snow-white inner-dress up to her neck then closing the moss-green vest, Elva briefly tried to examine herself before looking towards the reflection on the far wall. Hastily stepping past the bed as the lights brightened, Elva gasped as she saw herself mirrored on the short dresser. Coming closer to see the details, Elva admired the goldish knots sewn all over the outer-dress before flushing when she realized they matched those woven into her collar.

"It's beautiful," Elva stated as she turned herself, admiring how the loose, frilled sleeves hung off her wrists. Noticing how easily the skirt lifted as she pivoted, Elva cautiously smirked before twisting on her toes. Widely grinning as it furled out with her spin, Elva stopped abruptly and giggled as it snugly wrapped around her legs before settling.

"Well?" Saoirse calmly called out from the dressing room, "how does it fit, kitten?"

Elva had to look at her beaming face as she gleefully answered, "It fits perfectly, Mistress!"

Suddenly Saoirse shouted in annoyance and screamed something that Elva couldn't understand. The door swung open a moment later and Saoirse stormed out muttering, "Do I have to have another talk with them about staying out of my fucking future?" Huffing impatiently as she finished tying the halter of her black dress, Saoirse took a deep breath before her face relaxed. Looking at Elva while donning a warming smile, Saoirse remarked with a pleased sigh, "You look lovely, Elva."

Turning away bashfully, Elva glanced over her Mistress as she replied, "Thank you." Saoirse's hair and eyes were still the splendorous mixture, yet she had retracted her wings and horns. All her scars had vanished—though her sleeved garment might have covered most of them anyway—and Elva could clearly see the singular mark under her left eye. "Y-you look beautiful too, Mistress Saoirse."

"Thank you, Elva," she kindly replied while offering her left hand. "Come," she reluctantly insisted. "I suppose I have to introduce you to my mother."

When their fingers interlaced, Elva flushed and easily let Saoirse tug her to the exit. Startled by how quiet their brisk steps were, she glanced down and noticed her Mistress was barefoot. 'I thought she seemed shorter,' Elva quietly reflected as she briefly glanced back up. Too allured by her toes as they curled with each step, Elva nearly missed something black poke out behind Saoirse's heel. 'Is that—' Elva briefly wondered before shaking the thought off, too embarrassed to think about what Saoirse's tail felt like as they entered the corridor.

Their path to the steps was tranquil as Elva watched Saoirse's unbound hair sway behind her. Before Elva realized they had reached the warmly lit sitting room, Saoirse sharply turned right into a long hallway with a pair of wooden doors at the end. Their padded footsteps echoed softly until they nearly reached the entry, and as Saoirse let go of Elva, she turned back to request, "Wait here for a moment."

Elva only had to wait a few heartbeats for the gateway to be opened while a pair of red hands lunged through the gap. "Are you okay??" an older woman with a deep, kind voice questioned as she wrapped her arms around Saoirse's head.

"I'm fine, mother," Saoirse insisted as she pushed away. "You could have gotten here before Lynx if you were that concerned about me."

There was a flash of reddish light on Saoirse's cheek while her mother whispered something and then softly replied, "You know I don't have that much control over my visions, little dove." When the glow faded, her bruise was nearly gone. Saoirse gently embraced her as she added, "I'm so glad to see you again, sweetie. It's been so long."

Saoirse huffed wearily before she commented, "It doesn't feel like it. Seems like I just saw you a few days ago."

"I'm so sorry, my dove," she said woefully before Saoirse stepped away. "I hope you're feeling a little better now." Before Saoirse could answer, her mother continued, "Well, I hate to insist, but you know I need to be invited in."

As she opened the door further, Saoirse replied, "Of course. Please, come in, Brighid."

"Thank you, dove," replied a stouter woman wearing a dress similar to Elva's with auburn hair curling down to her hips. As the gateway swung open, Brighid quickly looked towards Elva before her bright green eyes lit up as she pushed past Saoirse. Loudly hooting as she dashed inside with open arms, she tightly embraced Elva and lifted her up while spinning her around. "Oh, Brigit," she gleefully shouted as she twisted in circles, "this is the 'little light' that woke up my dove!!"

Stunned as her world was turned about again and again, Elva tried not to shriek as she struggled to introduce herself, "H-h-he-llo! I-I'm Elva!"

Finally slowing and setting Elva on the ground with a firm hug, Brighid excitedly commented, "Oh, of course you are, my little light!" Hardly kept standing as she became aware of her dizziness, Elva tried to focus as Saoirse's mother commented, "I'm Brighid, darling."

"Brig-hid?" Elva questioned as Saoirse gently held her shoulders. After shaking her head, Elva tried to ask, "I-I'm sorry—not Brigit, right?"

Sharply giggling as Elva fell into Saoirse's embrace, Brighid remarked, "Our family's hearth goddess! My mother was very devout." Briskly walking down the hallway without them, Brighid loudly announced, "I'm using your kitchen, darling! I'll prepare ambrosia!"

Saoirse's hug seemed to relax as she sighed, "Oh, Brigit, could I go for—wine?!" Shouting as she let Elva go to race after Brighid, Saoirse insisted, "No! Mother, don't give Elva wine!'

"She'll be twenty two at the beginning of next month!" Brighid quickly retorted as she rounded the corner. "She's more than capable of deciding if she wants a glass or two!"

Unsteadily following her Mistress while she rushed away, Elva stumbled before finding her feet as Saoirse insisted, "That's not the—!" Saoirse stopped and rubbed her eyes as she questioned, "Mother, how do you—!"

"It's Lammas, do something special!!" Brighid interrupted Saoirse to mention.

"Would you—!" Saoirse yelled in frustration before Elva could reach her. Stomping out of view, Saoirse stated, "You know what, I'm not even going to ask how you know that. We're not drinking—!"

Snapping back as Elva came past the steps, Brighid rebutted, "You'll feel better with the energy. Or were you planning on playing with her more after your father showed up like that?" The two were already in the kitchen as Elva approached while Brighid was holding three translucent containers within her fingers. Saoirse stood before her, stunned as she covered her face and groaned with embarrassment. "It's raspberry," Brighid mentioned as a reddish drink started collecting in the roundish cup she offered.

Saoirse slowly glanced up before taking the container with a huff. Waiting until it was nearly filled to the brim, Saoirse swiftly brought it to her lips and swallowed it all in a long swig. Lightly coughing as she held the empty glass before her, Saoirse waited with resignation as she received more wine.

When Saoirse walked away in shame, Brighid chuckled and turned to Elva with a smile as she asked, "Now Elva, surely you learned to make wine for potions, yes?"

As she took the glass that Brighid handed her, Elva explained, "Well, Móra said not to drink any until my eighteenth summer." Shivering when she recalled her concoction, Elva nearly stuck out her tongue as she remembered, "But it tasted so awful I never tried it again."

Giggling as a red layer touched the bottom of the glass, Brighid commented, "This should taste much better than that, little light."

Cautiously bringing the cup to her lips, Elva tipped it up and tasted the drink before pursing her lips. Thankfully it wasn't sour like her own attempt, but Elva hesitated to remark, "It's tasty, but—too bitter."

Trading Elva's glass with the empty one, Brighid replied with a soft grin, "My apologies, little light." As a brighter wine filled it, Brighid said, "Here, strawberry will taste much sweeter, dear."

When it filled, Elva brought the drink to her nose and noticed, 'It does smell sweeter...' Curious, Elva quickly tasted the new wine before tilting the glass and taking large gulps. 'It's so sweet!' Elva thought in awe as she swiftly drank the rest, ignoring Brighid's snickers until Saoirse gasped.

"Elva!" Saoirse nearly shouted as she tenderly grasped her wrist. "You're not supposed to—" she more quietly tried to explain before Brighid took the empty glass from Elva's fingers.

Flustered and flushed, Elva looked to her Mistress as she apologized, "I-I'm sorry, I—saw you and—"

Gently hushing them both as she handed Elva a half-full glass, Brighid gushed, "She's fine, dove! It's just a little wine!" Noticing Elva wobbling before holding her head, she chuckled, "You should sit the little light down before she trips, though. I'll have supper ready soon!"